


Night Watch

by starrypawz



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 04:12:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4549944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrypawz/pseuds/starrypawz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Diantha can't sleep after the events of Therinfal</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Watch

**Author's Note:**

> There's some swearing in here

Something close to silence fell over Haven, at least for the next few hours it was likely similar to how the village had been when it had merely been some little dot of the map that was typically of no interest to anyone beyond those seeking the temple.

 

The night was a still one, the sky largely cloudless, the moon and stars bright in the sky. A night that in most cases would be seen as beautiful, peaceful even. Although that impression was somewhat tempered by the large expanse of green towards the horizon.

 

Diantha stomped her feet in her boots, hearing the crunch of snow underfoot and hoping she did not make too much sound whilst doing so. She lifted her hand towards the breach and dared to lift the glove from her hand feeling the cool night air against her skin, she could've sworn the mark seemed to pulse in time to the breach.

 

She stood like that for a few moments, sleep did not seem to want to come to her this night and trying to sleep seemed to just consume her with thoughts. Although walking around Haven didn't seem to do much to relieve those thoughts either, but maybe they'd have to work a bit harder to catch up with her.

 

Suddenly footfalls, heavier ones than hers that crunched through the snow pulled her from her thoughts as she turned to face whoever came towards her. She found herself noticing the fur mantle first, did the man ever take that off?

 

“Herald?” He spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.   
“Commander,”

“What are you doing out here?”  
“I could ask you the same question,”  
She noticed a twitch of his lip if she was thinking hard enough, maybe that was something close to a smile even.

“Watch duty,” Cullen said simply with a shrug, “I thought it only fair to put my name into rotation,”

“That's very thoughtful of you,” She smiled.   
“We're in this together,” She had to wonder if he wrote things like that down and memorised them, “And there's not much to be said for a commander that won't take on the duties of his solders from time to time,”

“Care for some company?”  
“Shouldn't you be resting?”  
“I _should_ ,” She tilted her head slightly, “But I don't think my mind likes that idea at the moment,”

“I see,”

She wasn't sure why but she found herself shuffling her foot in the snow.

“That would be good actually.” He actually smiled then, she managed to see that, “I'm heading back to my post if you care to join me,”

 

And so she did. The walk was one they spent in silence barring the crunch of boots and the shifting of fabric, although it was not an uncomfortable one by any means.

 

The 'watch post' like most things that the Inquisition had brought to Haven was something brought together with relative haste. A simple wooden platform raised to the same level as one of the fences, a few blankets. It lacked a ladder although the stacked crates more than served the purpose.

 

She noticed the firepit down the bottom with a kettle suspended above it and then what someone had devised as a pulley with a board.

“Tea?” Cullen asked as he knelt down to rekindle the fire, giving a sigh of relief when in short order there was the distinctive sound of a small fire crackling into life.   
“Should I ask what's in it?”

“Truth be told, I don't think anyone really knows, it's probably better that way,”

“Well what'd life without a bit of mystery?”

He tilted his head up to the platform, “You head on up there, and I'll send this up when it's ready,”

 

It was an easy enough task to get up onto the platform, which she found thankfully had been kept free of any frost or snow, and the blanket prevented too much of the cold from seeping through her breeches.

  
It was also a nice view up here, even with the breach in the way, she shivered when she looked at it but did wonder if that was the cold.

She _hoped_ that was the cold.

 

She was distracted from any further thoughts when she heard the pulley and scrambled over to carefully remove the two steaming tin mugs from the platform, handing one to Cullen when he joined her a few moments later.

 

She took a sip, at the very least she could tell it was tea, as to what went into it that would likely be forever a mystery. But the main thing was it was warm and rather comforting.

 

“Hunter's brew,” She remarked as she blew a plume of steam from the mug.

“Pardon?” Cullen raised an eyebrow.   
“I think that's what my father would call this, he'd also say it needs a nip of rum,”

“Rum?”

“Yes,” She took another sip, finding it did take the edge of her jangled nerves just a bit, “Apparently it keeps the cold at bay, or makes you forget about it or something like that,”

She held the cup and looked out on the horizon, Ostwick was very far away from here, not to mention she was probably facing the wrong direction anyway.

“Have you written home?”  
She laughed nervously, “I should probably, I think my mother would not be impressed with the fact I haven't,” She paused, “I have a feeling they've probably worked out what happened anyway... but how would you even write that letter? I mean 'Dear mother and father, sorry for not writing for a while, the conclave didn't go very well, there's a giant hole in the sky now and I need to close it,'”

“You have a point there,”

“What about you?”   
“I haven't been home in a long time,” He rubbed the back of his neck, fingers running through short blonde hair.

“Where are you from?” She took another sip.

“Hornleath, I don't think many people have heard of it truth be told, little village, not that far from Redcliffe. I was thirteen when I left,”  
“Maker,” She breathed

“I have been home since of course, I'm probably overdue for a visit, my sister writes occasionally, usually to complain I don't write home enough,” He chuckled then.   
“Sister?”  
“Mia, I'm one of four, I have a brother, Brandon and another sister Rosalie, they're all doing well last I heard,”

“That's good,”  
“What about you?”  
“I'm the youngest of six, a couple of them are half brothers, although I don't see those two very often, they were in Antiva last I heard” She took a long slow draught of tea, “The two eldest, my sisters are with the Chantry, my eldest brother is set to take over most of the 'court' stuff, my other sister is in the military,”  
“Close in age?”  
“Not really, there was a pretty big gap between them and myself, I spent most of my time seemingly playing catchup to them,”

“Is that why you were sent to the Conclave?”  
“Yes,” She turned to face him, “It was thought a good idea that I should finally get the chance to take up some responsibility within the family... which worked out _really_ well” She gave a bitter laugh.

Cullen for a brief moment thought of putting a hand on her shoulder, but restrained himself.

“You are doing well though,”  
“I am?”

“Yes, you have achieved a lot,”  
“It's not just me, I mean everyone seems to think I'm basically holding the world up single handed whilst doing a handstand on top of a wheel of greased cheese,”

She caught Cullen's expression, “Yeah that metaphor was much better in my head,”

“Greased cheese?”

Diantha realised at that moment she had never thought about the concept of having to explain a wheel of greased cheese to someone.   
She shook her head and huffed, “Weird Ostwick tradition,”

“Say no more,”

“I won't,” She managed not to snort with laughter into her mug.

“I mean, I just don't know how I'm meant to cope with this.” “Shit, just everyone else here seems to have much more going for them, I mean you've got a spymaster, diplomat, Templar, Ben-Hassrath, Grey Warden...” She grimaced, “Then there's me, what do I have?” She lifted her hand, “A glowing hand? Does Andraste have a sense of humour or something? Why me?”

Diantha laughed, although it was not a happy one, it was a shuddering nervous one that seemed to take the air out of her lungs that was soon followed by Diantha placing the mug down, and burying her head in her hands and groaning.

“ _Maker's balls,_ ” She sighed, “ _I'm in way over my head her_ e,”

“Diantha?”

Cullen cautiously reached over and placed a hand on her shoulder,   
“Sorry,” She mumbled before looking up. “I want to blame that on the fact I haven't slept much...”  
“Therinfal?”  
“Yes,” she paused, “I know it's gone but that... demon,” She grimaced running her fingers through her ginger hair, “It was in my _head,_ it wanted... my _face..._ and I can't stop thinking what'd happen if it'd actually done what it was trying to do... and Maker I've prayed, and I've burned incense, and I've counted prayer beads until I forgot what the sodding numbers were and it's as if it just won't leave me alone! And everyone is expecting me to keep going and patch up all their damned problems as well as closing that fucking hole in the sky and well... I'm scared, Cullen I'm really, really fucking scared and I don't know how...” 

_Shit, now my throat is doing that stupid thing again, Maker that always hurts._

“ _Fuck,”_

Cullen said nothing, instead reaching for her shoulder again. He wasn't really sure if it'd help,

“Diantha,”  
“Yes?” She managed to whisper, swallowing repeatedly to try and ease the sensation in her throat.

He thought for a moment to tell her of Ferelden. ' _You'll be okay_ ' sounded too presumptuous and well not enough, it would be just words. He needed something better.

“I... can show you some meditations, they might help,”

“That sounds... very helpful,”

“I'll show you tomorrow then?”

 


End file.
